North: The Outtakes
by alien09
Summary: Drabbles based on the Glee club from my North universe. Next up - It eats away at Quinn that Rachel Berry now has something else of hers yet again that she isn't supposed to have. Nominated for three 2011 PR Fanfic Awards - please see update for more!
1. Mike

**A series of random drabbles based on my North universe from the view of the other Glee members. If you would like to know what someone was thinking at a particular time, please feel free to let me know. I'm more than happy to accept requests and suggestions.**

**Enjoy.**

When Mike first noticed that Puck liked Rachel, he laughed.

Not because it was totally impossible but just because it was the two of them. When Puck liked a girl, he flexed his totally badass guns (quote, unquote) and they would fall at his feet. Something about worshipping at the altar. Whatever. Puck had a big enough ego that he didn't need anyone else inflating his head. Mike was actually surprised it could still fit through the door – he thought at some point Puck would have had to walk through sideways to even fit through.

But he digresses.

The first sign that Puck was into the Berry shake was his moodiness. Quinn on a hormone rampage had _nothing _on a PMSy Puckerman. The guy would sit there with a stupid scowl and bite off everyone's head. It was funny until he'd taken a swipe at Brit.

(That's when Mike had had to lay down the law. Because _no one _messed with his woman. Well, _soon-to-be _woman but the idea still stood)

There were the subtle glances, the excuses the dude came up with to stalk (sorry, Mike meant _hang around unobtrusively while sticking out like a guy with a mohawk_) Rachel, how Puck had whined about Mrs Larry over down on Waterhousia trying to get into his Speedo.

Puck probably thought he was being all cloak and dagger about his mahoosive (patent pending) crush on Berry. Whatever. Mike had grown up reading the Famous Five and the Hardy Boys. Not to mention his massive collection of Batman comics stashed in his basement, which his mother sarcastically referred to as "The Cave". Point was Mike Chang should have Private Dick stamped beside his name.

On second thought, maybe he should reconsider that.

But the real, glaring neon sign was the bat Mike had seen Rachel brandish at Jacob. That guy was all kinds of creepy. Mike was pretty sure Puck hadn't heard of Jacob's blog – or daily Playboy fan letter to Rachel Berry – otherwise he was pretty sure Puck would have plucked every single frizzy hair off Jacob's 'fro.

Seeing Rachel with that Louiseville slugger in her small hand had literally stopped him in his tracks. Because Mike knew for a _fact _that Puck loved that bat almost as much as the stack of skin mags he had buried in the false wall behind his chest of drawers. He stroked, caressed and polished the damn thing so much Mike was surprised he hadn't had any serious injuries to his right hand.

God, Mike killed himself. Sexual innuendo was _so _the win.

Back to the story.

When Rachel had drew herself up to the tiny, tiny stature that she was and Jacob had turned tail and ran for his life, Mike had ever so casually strolled up to Rachel.

'Hey Rach.'

Rachel turned to him, surprised before giving Mike a smile. He wondered why he had ever thought she was crazy but figured that Rachel was kind of like an onion – you had to peel all the layers off before you realized that it was all those layers you didn't think you liked that made her whole.

_Too_ philosophical man.

'Hello Mike,' she replied formally, tucking the bat under her arm.

'So…' Mike trailed off, fixing his eyes squarely on the object. 'Nice bat.'

'Isn't it?' She answered, looking pleased. 'Puck gave it to me this morning. I mentioned previously that I merely had mace to protect myself with against potential intruders. For some reason Puck took offence to my method and procured this for me as a more substantial line of defence.'

'_Really_?' Mike had said, after mentally translating Rachel's speech in his head. He really needed to teach the girl some slang. Then again, he mused, Rachel wouldn't quite be _Rachel _without that layer of formality.

'Yes.' She seemed confused by the amused expression on Mike's face. 'Is there a reason you find this amusing?'

'Oh no. That's Puck, you know? My boy likes watching out for the people he cares about.'

Rachel coloured at his words just like Mike expected.

'I'm sure Puck shows the same level of interest in your welfare as well Mike,' Rachel tried to feign insouciance. Mike didn't buy it. He also didn't think it was necessary to point out that Puck wouldn't have given a second thought to whether Mike could defend himself against anything. In fact, Puck had smirked when one of the guys on the team had broken Mike's arm last year. Clapped him on his back and told him that he hoped his left arm was just as good as giving little Chang the Hand of Glory.

Bastard.

Which was why Mike had reveled in the put upon expression on Puck's face during Glee.

'Seriously man, you gave her a _baseball bat_?'

Puck had blinked, trying to look confused. Did this guy know who he was messing with?

'_Normal _guys give girls they like flowers. Not something they can use to bludgeon someone to death,' Mike had saw fit inform his friend.

'Whatever,' Puck had replied.

Mike had mentioned Jacob then, just to see if he could get a rise out of Puck. He succeeded.

James pissed Puck off but Mike thought a little jealousy couldn't hurt. But that bat had been a masterstroke, intentional or not on Puck's part. It had planted the seeds of something in Rachel's brain and given time to grow, Mike knew that sooner or later it would amount to something.

Catching Puck and Rachel behind the curtains in the auditorium, seeing their hands joined together, Mike couldn't help but grin.

Mission Accomplished (and not like that banner Bush had either).


	2. Matt

Matt was quiet.

It wasn't that he was shy or anything. In fact, he thought he was a rather productive member of society. He engaged in extra-curricular activities and kept up an active social life.

Truth was, he relished the reaction people got whenever he _did _speak.

When someone who doesn't talk suddenly opens his or her mouth, everyone listens. It's like God showing himself to Moses in the form of a flaming, burning bush. Not that Matt was comparing himself to a deity or anything. Puck may swagger around like he was some kind of divine being, but Matt thought he was a bit like Barack Obama – a good-looking black man with gravitas.

And Matt had wisdom. Loads of it. Few years out of high school and he was going to be the next Oprah with a penis.

Rachel Berry first came to his attention when Puck had somehow coerced Mike and him to join Glee. Matt didn't find Glee so bad. He liked to dance and battling with Mike was kinda awesome (for the record, he had totally stomped the yard the last time they had crossed moves). He hadn't really known if he could sing but after a while, Matt found that he didn't really suck as much as he thought he would.

Okay. These are my confessions. Matt had totally jumped the Glee bandwagon when he found out it meant getting extra facetime with Santana. Sure he had heard Puck bitch about what a, well, _bitch _Lopez was after she had broken things off with the left tackle (speaking of which, why the hell had Puckerman been dropping hints about his credit rating recently?) but Matt figured Santana subscribed to the same modus operandi he did – Speak Less And They Will Listen When You Do.

Back to Rachel. Berry had actually scared the crap out of Matt when he had first spoken to her. She talked. _A lot. _Matt wasn't even sure how she managed to cram so many words into a sentence without taking a breath. He had remarked on this once to Puck, mentioned something about stamina, and his friend had gotten this really weird look on his face and bolted out with his ears going red. Reflecting back, knowing what he knew now because of his awesome astuteness, Matt figured Puck was probably forming an equation that involved Rachel and sex. Because, statistically speaking, teenage boys thought about sex every time they blinked or something. Which was a gross overstatement and completely unfair.

By the way, Matt had had to force himself to look away when Santana had twirled around in her super short Cheerios skirt. All that flipping and flapping and sneak peeks had been _too _suggestive. And maybe it was his imagination but had Santana actually _winked _at him after doing that?

Something to ponder.

Puck and Rachel together was a combination that seemed odd, but worked. Like chocolate and cheese. You think the ingredients wouldn't go together but once you've had a bite of each, they explode in your mouth and send your tastebuds into overload. Rachel talked a lot. When Puck spoke it was usually some snide comment that, if you listened close enough, revealed a lot more than you first thought.

For instance, Matt remembered asking Puck why he was hanging outside Spanish.

'What are you? The hall monitor?' Puck had shot back, scowling. Matt hadn't risen to the bait. Puck looked all intimidating and shit, but deep down inside he was a gummy bear. He'd seen Puck with his little sister and if anyone saw the way the siblings interacted, Puck's rep as a badass would have been wrapped around with candy floss.

'Dude, you have Math on the other side of the hallway.'

'I cut my nap short. I'm just waiting for the bell to ring so I can get the hell outta here,' Puck had muttered. Right on cue the bell had sounded and Matt had watched, intrigued, as Rachel waltzed out of Spanish with her pink notebook and trolley bag. She looked surprised to see them both there.

'Hello Matt, Puck,' she greeted them, sounding like his grandmother (which he didn't mean as an insult or anything. Its just Berry wore cardigans with those knitted flowers on the front that Gran did as well. Was it weird that Rachel dressed as an elderly lady? Maybe she had an old soul? Something to consider).

'Sup Berry.' It was Puck's _really _casual tone that had sent the red flag up. Rachel had bid them both farewell and walked off. Puck hadn't taken his eyes off Rachel until she disappeared from their line of sight.

'What?' Puck had bit out, looking all huffy.

'To those who wait, good things come,' Matt intoned sagely, clapping Puck on the back.

'I knew there was a reason why you always kept your trap shut half the fucking time,' the other boy had muttered under his breath.

Matt knew he had been heard though. Puck's profanity got worse the more you made sense. A little something he had picked up through his keen powers of observation (eat that Chang. Batman my ass).

The bat. Puck running off after Rachel during the bake sale. Puck loosing it in the locker room when Kurt had told them about James (amusing that Puck could literally be called a green-eyed monster considering the fact that the guy did, in fact, have eyes the same colour. He'd told Mike this in passing and his teammate had totally been pissed he hadn't come up with a winner like that. Rutherford one or a billion, Chang zero).

So when he'd seen Puck put his arm around Rachel, Matt liked to think he'd been the cosmic being that had set shit into motion.

For to speak is to listen. And to hear is to learn.

Eat that Yoda.

**a/n: My attempt at Matt. I wanted to do Brittany but Matt kept pushing his way in, silently brooding. So here it is. Let me know what you think. Good, bad, ugly.**


	3. Brittany

**a/n: Brittany! I expect this to be reviewed separately so I can get the good, the bad and the ugly on this POV. Merry X'mas everyone!**

Brittany didn't mind people thinking she was dumb. Okay, so maybe it bothered her just a _little _but she figured that life was much bigger than what you thought people thought about you.

When she had first seen the _complete _once over Puck had given Rachel during their mash up, Brit knew something was up. Guys like Puck tried to act all Arnold Schwarnegger about their feelings but _whatever_. Appanrently trying to cover up his super intense lust/love for Rachel eneded up with Puck being all grade school obvious about his feelings.

Kurt had been her first point of contact. After all, everyone knew that if you wanted something done someone who didn't stick to the straight sexual path was always the best option. Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, Will & Grace, etc – the facts spoke for themselves. Obviously had pick for co-conspirator had been totally on the money.

Brit saw herself as like a mini-Sue Slyvester, except without the scary sociopathic tendencies. She could be just as cunning and manipulative if she wanted to be. Being stereotyped as a dumb blonde was just another formidable weapon in her arsenal. Obviously these people didn't get the memo that underestimating your enemy was, like, as bad as the new Black Eyed Peas album.

Rachel was actually pretty cool once you got to know her. She was tiny and loud, composed but hyper. Brit thought she was a walking contradiction. It was kind of cool. Except when she went all uber diva – that was plain _scary_.

James had been a glitch but after watching the way Puck acted around Rachel, Brit figured Kurt was right about Puck walking into whatever him and Rachel were with eyes wide shut.

Brit didn't really _know _Puck. They sometimes nodded to each other in the hallway and she was privy to (unfortunately) all the intimate details of his and Santana's short-lived and much-bitched about relationship. For some reason she didn't think Puck would hate the idea of the rest of the Cheerios hearing about how he's some kind of animal in the sack. Though Brit often tried to replace the images Santana inspired with a montage of Puck doing push-ups over the Latina.

It was _less _disturbing that way. Maybe. No, it wasn't. Yeah he was hot but this was _Puck_. So not her type.

Anyways, Puck was acting all…un-Puckish towards Rachel. It was sweet in a twisted kind of way. Not like Speidi twisted, but the kind that made you sit back and wonder whether there was _something _there between the two of them. It was in the little things really. Puck noticed that Rachel had changed clothes after her slushie attack (which was like _momentus _considering the fact that Mike hadn't mentioned a word about the new Cheerio skirt she had ordered with extra pleats). He also gave her a bat, which had completely weirded and excited Brit. Rachel had asked her why.

'_Because _isn't the bat, like, symbolic or something?' She had told her new friend. Rachel had furrowed her little brow and looked all confused.

'Puck's attempt at chivalry?' Rachel tried. Brit had patted her on the shoulder. Another things James was going to be good for was breaking that naïve little shell Rachel had wrapped around herself.

'Rachel, _look _at that thing. It totally looks like a phallus.'

Rachel had stared down at the slugger aghast. Brit hastily tried to rectify the situation, remembering she was kinda rooting for Puck to get his act together.

'I mean, maybe it was completely subconscious. I'm sure he didn't pick up the bat and _think _it looked like a phallus and that it would send a subliminal message that he wanted to…' Brit trailed off, seeing Rachel's eyes widen with horror. 'That bat is totally Puck's way of giving you flowers.'

Mike had passed by when she said those words and Brit had briefly felt herself blush when he'd winked.

'Are you sure?' Rachel sounded uncertain, holding the bat out at arms length.

Brit felt herself soften.

Because, she figured, Puck was a lot like McSteamy. There was no denying the boy had sex appeal. Even that ridiculous mohawk he insisted on maintaining as some kind of passive-aggressive symbol of rebellion didn't detract from Puck's manifique physique. But there was something about him that blunted that edge, how sometimes he could totally be super sweet and then try to pretend it never happened by looking all badass. The way McSteamy really did care about Addison no matter how he tried to pretend he didn't on the outside.

Brit had watched, half-amazed, as Puck had succumbed to the whims of _like_. It would be a stretch to say that he followed Rachel around like a lost puppy but it wasn't bending the truth when she could state with certainty that he _enjoyed _being in Rachel's company. When Puck was with Rachel he was a little less angry, a little more at ease.

That was what Brittany thought anyways.

'The two of you…it's all very _10 Things I Hate About You_, you know?' Brit had told Rachel.

'I don't know what that means.'

Brit laughed. 'Sometimes Rachel, actions speak louder than words.'

Seeing his reaction to those shorts Brit had forced Rachel into had been worth it.

Seeing Rachel's reaction when Puck had put his arm around her?

Priceless.


	4. Silent Movie

The first time Mike had met Matt, he had wondered why the dude was always so quiet. It had kind of freaked him out as a six-year-old. He recalled a miniature version of his friend sitting by the sandbox, staring very hard at a tree. Mike had walked up to him, curiousity piqued.

'Why are you staring at the tree?'

Matt had looked up with his deep-set eyes and blinked.

'Can you _talk_?' Mike asked, receiving the same blank stare.

'Yes.' Despite the childish lilt, Mike couldn't miss the deep baritone that would become more dominant when Matt's voice broke. Reflecting back, Mike thought that was when he knew this guy had gravitas.

'So why aren't you?'

Matt shrugged in response.

'You don't like to talk?' Mike pressed. Matt hesitated before nodding.

'That's _weird_.' Mike paused. 'But Batman doesn't really say much either.'

'Whose Batman?'

Mike had stared at Matt, jaw on the floor.

'_Dude_,' he'd drawn the word out, all incredulous.

That had been the start of a beautiful friendship.

Eleven years later and they were hunched down in the back of the choir room, watching Puck watch Rachel.

'Look at him man. It's like we've stepped into the Twilight Zone,' Mike murmured under his breath, loud enough for Matt to hear. A pause. 'Actually you know that saying about someone following you around like a lost puppy? _That's _what Puck reminds me of.'

'So the same way you look around Brit then,' Matt stated definitively.

'No, I don't!' Mike protested immediately. Just because he, like, made an effort to _try _and be around the blonde Cheerio didn't make him _anything _like Puck. That guy took angst to a whole other level. 'Puck looks like he stuck a fork in a toaster. I, on the other hand, look _cool_.'

'Potato, tomato,' Matt replied, lifting his shoulders.

'You think he digs Berry?' Mike enquired, peering at the small brunette who was engaged in what looked like an animated conversation with Mercedes.

Matt raised an eyebrow.

'Yeah, you're right,' Mike said. 'What am I saying. _Of course _he does.'

'Do you think he knows what he's doing? Like all that stalking-'

'He hangs around unobtrusively while sticking out like a guy with a mohawk,' Matt interrupted.

'_Whatever_. Point is, dude has got it _bad_,' Mike finished, flourishing a hand towards Puck. 'I mean, just _look _at him.'

'I have been since the last time you told me to,' Matt remarked dryly. 'Look, we both know how Puck is with feelings.'

'No chick flick moments,' Mike repeated, trying to mimic Puck and failing.

'Just let him stew. If you push him, he's just going to push back and deny it. The way to handle Puck is to let him think you don't know when you actually do know.'

'So we're just going to sit here and watch?' Mike sounded annoyed. 'I can't even change the channel. What if I want to vote him off the island? Or decide he isn't the perfect catch? Or-'

'Dude, shut up.'

Mike appeared affronted. 'Just because you can go through life like a silent movie…' he muttered, glaring at Matt who didn't seem to be bothered.

'Puck will figure it out,' Matt offered, which Mike thought was his way of placation. 'It'll be like the Blades of Athena striking him upside the head.'

'If he doesn't, we're going to have to like lend our power to the cause and go all Gaia on his ass,' Mike said, balling a fist and smacking it against his open palm.

'Kratos is god,' Matt finally said as they both observed Rachel seat herself next to Puck.

'Literally,' Mike whispered, raising his hand in a wave when Puck looked their way.

'You know what man? I'm glad you don't talk too much.'

'Why? Because you do?' Matt asked, folding his arms across his chest as his eyes tracked Santana's movement.

Mike considered this. 'Maybe. But think about it. If you hadn't been like Dumbo and not spoken, I never would have asked you why you were such a freak. Then this epic bromance wouldn't have _existed_.'

Mike furrowed his brow before continuing.

'You know what other Disney character never spoke? Dopey.'

Matt pushed Mike off his chair.


	5. Kurt

**Takes place between Chapters 17 and 18.**

Kurt had a motto that he adhered to much the same way Rachel clung to her musicals.

Fashion was never meant to be comfortable.

Stuffing your feet into stilettos that would deform you was a necessary sacrifice. It didn't matter that they made your toes scream or your calves ache. So long as your legs ended up looking fantastic, who cared?

That line of thinking, Kurt mused, applied to Rachel and Puck perfectly.

Neither of them made each other comfortable. In fact, Kurt was pretty sure that one drove the other to the brink of insanity. But that was why they _worked_. Rachel seemed to envision this idea of Puck that the boy himself found hard to fit in. She forced him to be this person that he didn't think he was capable of. Puck, in turn, tempered Rachel's otherwise overwhelming personality with his personal brand of tact.

And yet, if you looked close enough, there was just something _there._

Which was why Kurt wasn't really surprised when Puck sought him out after school Friday. Despite how Kurt had felt about Rachel in the beginning – how uncompromising and selfish and oh so _loud _– the female lead of New Directions had softened some of those sharp edges. When Kurt had pulled her out of that dumpster, he had taken one glance at the downtrodden look on Rachel's face and something inside him had shifted. Because the next thing he knew Rachel Berry was this _girl _who had _feelings _and the thought of making his usual snide remarks left a sour taste in his mouth.

And perhaps, somewhere along the way, he had even begun to consider her a friend.

'Yo! Beyonce!'

Making sure to plaster on a bored expression, Kurt drew himself to halt and waited for Puck to catch up. He took a moment to admire the way Puck's muscles shifted under his shirt. While Kurt knew that his love for Finn would hold true, there was just no escaping the fact that Noah Puckerman was an _extremely _good-looking male.

'Dude, _seriously_. Stop objectifying me,' Puck said and Kurt blinked.

'Is there something I can help you with?' Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow and choosing to ignore his comment. Puck flitted his eyes either side before drawing Kurt towards the wall.

'What the hell happened to Berry this morning?'

_So predictable._

'What makes you think something happened with _Rachel_?'

Puck narrowed his eyes. 'You're fucking kidding me right? No _way _Berry owns a skirt that isn't above knee length.' A pause. 'And she usually looks like some convent reject dressed her in the dark.'

Kurt sighed. 'While I agree with your assessment of Rachel's rather unfortunate wardrobe, I'm afraid that I'm bound by-'

'Yeah, yeah. I heard about your diva code of silence,' Puck muttered.

'Then you know that unless you confront Rachel herself, I will hold her secrets close to my extremely well-tailored Calvin Klein vest.'

'We both know Berry isn't going to say jack to me,' Puck informed him flatly.

Kurt eyed Puck evenly. Something lurked behind those stunning green eyes and it made Kurt straighten up and smirk.

'I find your keen interest in Rachel's welfare quite tasty,' Kurt remarked, looking at his fingernails. A frown pulled at Puck's brow.

'Don't go starting shit Hummel,' Puck warned and the growl that resonated from deep within his finely toned chest made Kurt shiver with both anticipation and a small dose of fear. 'Like I said before, Berry doesn't deserve to have crap like that pulled on her.'

'Perhaps you should consider that your sudden indifference in torturing Rachel has left her easy prey for the other Neanderthals that walk these halls,' Kurt shot back, lowering his hand.

The boy who stood before him had barely blinked before upending him into a dumpster.

'Yeah, well. I'm trying to stop them from fucking with you guys alright?' Puck retorted, digging his hands in his pockets and angling his face to the side. Kurt stared at him, shocked.

But then again, perhaps there was more to Puck than he allowed himself to show.

'So are you going to fucking tell me _now _why Rachel had to change her clothes or not?'

Noticing the tense set of his shoulders and the pinched features of his face, Kurt hummed.

'You already know who did it,' Kurt said, voice low. Puck let out a ragged sigh, rubbing a hand through the thick stripe of hair on his head. The left tackle muttered something under his breath that Kurt couldn't decipher.

They stood there awkwardly. Kurt wanted to as Puck why Rachel fascinated him, why Puck felt the inexplicable pull that everyone else could see to someone who existed on the opposite end of the spectrum from him.

But the words never came.

Puck mumbled a goodbye and Kurt watched him go.

Rachel and Puck didn't make each other comfortable. Maybe that's why they looked so good together.


	6. Mike Doesn't Play Well With Guns

The first time Mike Chang had met Noah Puckerman, the dude had been a string bean. Not like a _literal _string bean. Mike thought he was kinda like a bean stalk – rangy with all these limbs sticking out.

It was the summer before high school when Puck became the sex god everyone knew him as (though Mike doubted that _giving _yourself the title made it renown but _whatever_). One minute Puck was Bruce Banner and the next thing the guy had _guns_. These weren't just regular arms either. Like Mike was pretty sure you could knock a guy unconscious with Puck's bicep.

(This actually happened the second day of freshman year when some guy had made a comment about Puck's mohawk. For someone who claimed to be this _oh so macho _guy, the dude sure spent a lot of time on his hair)

Mike had watched as girl after cougar had fallen under the spell of Noah Puckerman. Puck walked around with this annoying smirk on his face half the time and Mike was pretty sure if the guy wasn't his friend, he'd think he was an arrogant asshole.

Actually, scratch that, despite their friendship Mike _still _thought Puck could be kind of a douche.

Case in point had been his self-proclaimed slushie war on Rachel Berry.

One minute Mike hadn't really known who the girl was, and the next thing he knew Puck had dragged him and Mike to the 7/11 every morning so he could purchase a Big Quench. At first they had been cherry-flavoured but after a few days Puck had started buying grape. One of the guys on the football team had asked Puck about the sudden change and only gotten some smart ass reply in response. Which was pretty much what every conversation with Puck was like.

But back to Rachel. Mike had _tried _getting Puck to stop with the slushie facials. He really had. The conversation had went something like:

'Puck, man, I get that slushiefying Berry is some kind of fetish for you but _dude_, she's like a _girl_.'

'Chang, if you ever want to reproduce again I suggest you stop talking.'

Okay, so Puck's reply had actually been a grunt but Mike was skilled in "Puck Speak" and he could _hear _the words despite them not being said. Matt had tried with his whole Shaft thing and gotten blown off. Mike wasn't sure if Finn had attempted talking Puck out of it – but if Finn _had _said anything and Puck hadn't listened to his best friend, then it was pretty much a lost cause.

So Mike did little things to make Rachel's life easier. He didn't _know _her but still Mike didn't think _anyone _deserved to have shit like that done to them.

(He totally would have resorted to physical violence but Puck was huge. And obviously didn't understand Uncle Ben's whole "great power comes great responsibility" speech)

For example one time he'd seen Puck heading towards Rachel and had accidentally tripped and upended the drink all over the floor. Noticing the relieved expression on the girl's face, Mike thought the complete bitch fit Puck had put him through was kind of worth it.

But then one day the slushie facials just…stopped.

There hadn't been this epic announcement of Puck realizing the error of his ways or how he was remorseful and ashamed of his actions.

In true Puck fashion he'd simply said it was getting lame.

Glee happened and then Kurt stopped getting the dumpster treatment as well.

But then, one day out of nowhere, Mike thought he'd gotten his answer.

'Dude, can you _believe _what Kralownsky did to Rachel?' Mike had asked, shaking his head.

'That bitch is getting a beatdown.' Mike rolled his eyes at Puck's predictable response. He went into what he called his "Pat Morita Zone" and adopted this completely serious pose. Because he needed to say this, and Puck needed to like _acknowledge _the truth of the matter.

'Yeah well. You kind of started this whole thing right?'

'What the fuck is that supposed to mean Chang?' And this time Mike wasn't at all afraid of Puck's guns because he remembered how _nice _Rachel was despite the fact that he hadn't really done much to stop her humiliation before.

'Puck man, you made it this personal mission to screw up Rachel's life from the moment she moved here. Now that you've stepped down, it doesn't mean everyone else is.'

Puck muttered something. Mike guessed it was offensive.

He was probably right.

'Yeah well, I'm trying to be less of an asshole,' Puck had finally admitted, looking like he didn't want to be there.

Mike decided to spare him and merely clapped him on the back.

Later Mike had watched fascinated as Puck had stepped up to Rachel's aid. He had to admit it was kind of funny seeing Puck fall under Berry's charm without realizing it.

And they called him dense.

_Please._


	7. Jose: Friendship by Osmosis

The first time Jose had met Rachel, he hadn't taken her seriously. One look at those knee socks and schoolgirl get up and he had wondered what the fuck his math teacher was on to consider the new girl as cannon fodder to be shoved towards the head of the local PCH chapter.

Plus, word in the hallways was that this girl didn't know when to shut up.

'You Berry?' He scowled down at her and dropped his worn bag down on the ground as she gave him the most formal reply possible.

'Whose Amber?' The question had been innocent but the sharp pain that slammed down on his shoulders when he heard the name put him on the defensive.

'None of your business white girl.'

Rachel had looked taken aback before apologizing. He had interrupted her rambling and told her that she shouldn't take to heart what people thought of her.

Looking back Jose still wondered how the hell Rachel Berry had wormed her way into his life. Because she just wasn't the kind of girl who ran with people like him. It had come as somewhat of a shock when she had willingly slid her tray amongst the PCHers one day during lunch. Enrique had even widened his eyes comically and asked her if she was lost.

'Of course not,' Rachel had responded, highly offended. 'I possess an excellent sense of direction. Now would any of you like a cookie?'

And that's how Rachel got the most notorious biker gang in San Joaquin eating out of the palm of her tiny, dainty hand. And also how Jose discovered that having Rachel as a friend was worth more than anything.

Yes, she often pestered him about pulling his grades up and considering college because _the future was never too far away for him to not consider planning ahead for these things_. And it was true that he could never win an argument with her.

But she more than made up for it by being as solid as a rock.

When Enrique had gotten stabbed by another gang, Jose had seen red. Growing up had been hard with his mother never around and his father gone. So he had gone looking for a substitute family and joining the PCHers had seemed like a lifeline. The group gave him a band of brothers, a sense of purpose. These are my people and this is my land. Stay off or stay dead. The creed had run through his veins like blood and Jose had fed off the fear that his reputation engendered.

Rachel hadn't been intimidated though, despite the fact that Jose was sure the whispers about what the PCHers had done had filtered down to her ears. He had never asked her why and she had never offered an explanation.

'I'm going to kill that _gilipollas_ (asshole),' Jose remembered seething, seeing Enrique lying prone on the hospital bed.

'You will do no such thing,' Rachel had whispered harshly, watching the rise and fall of Enrique's chest as he slept.

'Fitzgerald knows comin' after mine is a fuckin' death wish,' Jose replied, feeling his fingers dig deep into his palm.

'And what will that accomplish? It will merely result in this cyclical situation whereby both you and them will think of more violent and _fatal _ways to inflict more pain on each other. Isn't Enrique enough?' Rachel gestured towards their fallen friend.

'Don't pretend like you know _chica rica pequeña _(little rich girl),' Jose spat out and cringed inside when he saw the hurt flash across Rachel's eyes.

'I know that you care about Enrique and the rest as if they were family. But how would you feel knowing that because you were too _stupid _to consider the repercussions of what you want to do, another one of your brothers is going to end up in that bed alongside Enrique? Or that I'm going to have to tell your mother her son isn't coming back,' she said the words softly but Jose heard them as if she had shouted them.

In the end the rage and the need for revenge had overclouded his judgment and they had walked up to the Fitzgerald bar.

The next day Adam and him had ended up in the emergency room. He had called Rachel and despite the fact that she was obviously upset with him, she had arrived in her father's car and driven them both home.

Not before she had delivered a stern lecture to the PCHers which had made them all hang their heads in shame, a sight Jose never thought he would see.

'You still mad, huh?' He had mumbled after Adam had shut the door, his fractured wrist close to his chest. Jose touched the stitches along his forehead, wincing when the slight motion caused the wound to burn.

Rachel didn't reply, merely made a sound in the back of her throat. They drove the rest of the way to his house in silence and it made Jose feel suffocated because Rachel _always _spoke, whether he wanted her to or not. She pulled the car to an abrupt stop outside his house and he thanked God his mother wasn't home from her shift yet.

Jose glanced at Rachel.

'I hope you realize that you're wasting all this potential with the PCH. All of you are.'

'Lemme guess – I could be going to community college?' Jose couldn't help saying derisively.

Rachel gave him a flat stare. 'At least that would be better than dying before you're twenty.'

Jose shrugged.

'The way you talk, it's like you're expectin' all this shit from me that's never gonna happen.'

'Perhaps,' Rachel replied shortly. 'Or maybe you just don't expect much from yourself.'

Jose didn't want to dwell on how truthful her words were.

'Whatever. Thanks for the ride and the lecture.'

'You're welcome,' she retorted primly, practically peeling away. Jose chuckled, shaking his head. He was actually surprised she hadn't gotten busted for driving without a license, and the fact that Rachel Berry had taken her father's car for a joy ride.

A year later when he saw her in Lima, Jose realized that being friends with Rachel Berry meant friendship by osmosis. He had rubbed off on her in San Joaquin, but she had made a lasting impression on him after she had left.

The stack of college brochures sitting on his desk at home was all the proof he needed.


	8. Farm Animals Silent Killers

**a/n: takes place during Chap 45 and 46 of North.**

Mike wondered why he always seemed to be around when Puck was in a bad mood. It wasn't that he was _scared _of Puck per se. Mike considered it a basic form of self-preservation to remove yourself from the line of fire. Endless hours spent honing his _Call of Duty _and _Modern Warfare 2 _skills had also contributed towards developing a strategic mindset.

So Mike put his newfound abilities into good use. A quick foray into the Glee phone tree confirmed that Rachel wasn't anywhere in sight today.

_Jackpot baby._

However watching Puck maul that skinny kid from chemistry during gym had made him rethink his plans. Catching Matt's eye, he motioned his best friend over with a casual jerk of the head.

'What's up?'

Mike fixed his gaze pointedly on Puck, who was now steamrolling through five guys on the field.

'It's because Rachel isn't here,' Matt simply shrugged. 'I'm just thankful that I'm not on the field.'

'I think the question we need to be asking is _why _Rachel isn't here,' Mike thought he should make clear.

'Maybe she's sick or something.'

Mike gaped at Matt. 'Have you _met _Rachel Berry? I'm pretty sure I mentioned one time how I had the chicken pox right before finals one year and, like, I looked like one of those dudes straight out of _Borderlands_ and do you know what she told me?'

Seeing the expectant look on Mike's face, Matt rolled his eyes. 'What did she tell you?'

'She said she didn't think that was a good excuse for ruining a chance at maintaining a perfect attendance record and then said something about how she wouldn't come to school unless she'd nicked a major artery and was slowly bleeding to death. With like flattering yellow light and a major dramatic score composed by Hans Zimmerman playing in the background,' Mike said this in a great big rush. Matt opened and closed his eyes.

'_Well_?' Mike demanded when Matt didn't rush to point out how _absurd _Rachel's excuse was.

'Maybe it's the flu.'

Mike narrowed his eyes. '_Swine _flu. Or like _bird _flu you mean.' A pause. 'Dude, why are all the farm animals trying to kill us?'

'Maybe you should ask Puck,' Matt answered, pointing a finger at a thoroughly dark and scowling Puck heading their way.

'Like _fuck _I almost broke his ribs,' his friend was muttering under his breath, yanking his helmet off.

Again let's be clear. Mike wasn't _scared_. It was _self-preservation_.

'That time of the month again, huh?' The words were out of his mouth before Mike could stop them.

Puck had a thunderous expression on his face. 'Don't fuck with me right now Chang. Just because I like you doesn't mean I won't bitch slap you.'

'What crawled up your ass and died?' Matt asked.

'Nothing,' Puck retorted. Mike gaped.

'Okay, why aren't you threatening to eviscerate _him_?' Mike demanded, jabbing a finger at Matt before he realized that he actually knew what eviscerate meant. 'Holy crap. I think Rachel's been, like, some kind of good influence on me!'

A muscle in Puck's jaw throbbed.

'Whatever,' was all Puck said.

Mike gave his friend a measured look, taking in the tense expression when Rachel's name was mentioned.

'Did something happen between you and Rach?' He questioned cautiously, flicking his eyes toward Matt who gave a puzzled shrug.

'No,' Puck replied flatly.

'Really?' Mike said skeptically. 'Because you're acting like you have some kind of 'roid rage and I'm pretty sure those guys you just pummeled need some Dr Quinn Medicine Woman shit to make them stand again.'

'I don't want to talk about it,' Puck phrased it as a statement and Mike backed off, hearing the finality in Puck's tone. 'I need water.'

Watching Puck jog off towards the water cooler, Mike spoke.

'Okay, something is _definitely _up.'

'You don't say,' Matt replied sarcastically.

'I'm going to find out what it is.'

'You do that,' Matt said in a patronizing way.

'Don't you think it's awesome I know what eviscerate means and that I can totally use it in the right context and everything?'

'Bazinga.'


	9. Mike: The Badass Has Feelings Too

**Takes place in Chapter 55, where Mike, Matt and Puck had their little uncomfortable talk.**

**Follow me on www(dot)alien09(dot)tumblr(dot)com for updates/teasers/etc.**

The image of Puck, smelling of tequila and with his bruised face and knuckles, had kind of gotten to Mike. Puck had always been _cool_. Like Mike was pretty sure he had never seen Puck feel any kind of emotion out loud.

Well, there was definitely anger. Yeah, come to think of it Puck had been angry _a lot _the years they had been friends. And Mike was fine with anger. Puck getting all pumped up, ready to beat someone down – _that _he could handle.

But seeing his friend broken, like this dude with Jake Gyllenhal in Prince of Persia _muscles _being totally out of sync with the world around him, had freaked Mike the fuck out.

'You sure this is a good idea?' Matt mumbled, the two of them now standing on the front porch of Rachel's house. Mike merely sent him a look and rung the doorbell. A couple of seconds later the door swung open to reveal Rachel, who literally blinked in surprise seeing them there.

'Hey,' Mike said easily, as if it wasn't at all unheard of that he'd be here after finding out about who was actually Quinn's baby daddy. 'Is Puck conscious?'

Rachel actually got this defensive look on her face and neither of the boys missed the way her shoulders straightened or her eyes narrowed.

'Noah is currently lucid,' she started. 'Would you like to come in?'

The pounding footsteps made all three twist their heads to see Puck, dressed in a loose Harvard shirt and sweatpants that looked a little too big for him. His friend stopped short, cutting his gaze back and forth between Mike and Matt.

'Rutherford. Chang,' Puck greeted them shortly and Mike wondered if Puck was expecting some kind of epic bitch fest from them, like he hadn't even considered the possibility that the two of them wouldn't be on his side.

It kind of made Mike think that if that's the way this friendship worked, it was complete shit.

'Puckerman. You got a minute?' Matt asked. Rachel was flitting her eyes around. Puck glanced down and Mike barely missed the minute nod Rachel sent his way. Puck's shoulders seemed less tense as he stepped aside, Rachel closing the door gently behind them.

'Well, you three may use the kitchen. I'll just retire upstairs. Please do not hesitate to call if you need anything,' Rachel beamed and Mike seriously had to wonder how much of the time Rachel made sure to disguise her true feelings. Then he took a closer look at Puck and thought the same thing.

Mike followed Matt into the kitchen. Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

'Quit dancing,' Matt hissed sharply, nodding his head in Puck's direction. They watched as Rachel clasped Puck's hand gently, patted it with her delicate fingers, before heading towards the stairs. When Puck made his way towards them, he kept a healthy distance, crossing his arms and staring at the granite countertop like it was a Playboy centerfold.

'So what brings you here?' Puck finally asked and it sets Mike's haunches on edge.

'You slept with Quinn,' Matt broke in before Mike could say a word. Puck shrugged his shoulders.

'I know. I was there.' The reply was short, curt, totally to the point.

'And you didn't tell Finn,' Matt continued. For a guy who hadn't wanted to come on this little _charade _(as his best friend had so eloquently put it), the dude sure was taking charge of this conversation.

Wait, Puck was talking again.

'Look Tweedledum and Tweedledee,' Puck bit out and this time actually made sure to look both of them in the eye. 'Spare me the drama okay? How could you screw Finn over like that, how could you do that to Quinn…_whatever_. Just say whatever the fuck you want to say and then you can go on over to St Finneus and group hug the shit out of each other.'

Mike slanted his head towards Matt, as if to say _See? This is what I was talking about!_

'We came to hear your side of the story jackass,' Mike retorted and was treated to the rare look of shock that passed over Puck's features. It lasted for a second before the stoic, Spartan warrior façade papered itself over.

'I didn't tell Finn because Quinn didn't want me to,' Puck admitted and Mike could tell that it was costing him to tell them this, that if anything Puck was a guy who liked keeping his shit close to his chest or whatever.

'Yeah?' Matt commented nonchalantly.

'_Yes_.' Holy shit, that was _total _Rachel Berry-esque thing to say. The muscle in Puck's jaw did a Zumba. 'You think I didn't step up the moment I found out it was mine? Fuck you both. I manned the fuck up but apparently it wasn't good enough for the dethroned Celibacy Queen. She wanted Frankenteen with his few bolts loose and not some Lima Loser with a badass 'hawk.'

There was this awkward silence and Mike thought he might have gaped. Matt, on the other hand, looked like Keanu Reeves in _Speed_.

'How come you finally told Finn then?' Matt asked, looking at Puck as if he had a bomb strapped to the underside of his carriage.

Puck let out a bitter laugh. 'Berry.'

For some reason, that was explanation enough as far as Mike and Matt were concerned. Having been exposed to Rachel's particular brand of enthusiasm, Mike could safely vouch for the fact that the girl could even make a blind man think he could see.

'Okay then,' Matt said and Puck looked at him like he was the crazy one.

'Okay?' Puck repeated skeptically. 'What the fuck does that mean?'

'It means that we're not going to tell you how effed up this entire thing is, and what you shouldn't have done,' Matt started.

'We figure you're already kicking your own ass on that front,' Mike interjected.

'But we aren't gonna ditch you Puckerman,' Matt finished. Puck had this slightly weirded out expression on his face.

'Do you both share a brain or something?' He questioned. 'Because that was some freaky conjoined twin shit that just happened.'

'He's my bro,' Mike answered and saw a shuttered look come over Puck's gaze. It didn't take a genius to decide that he was thinking about Finn. 'Finn'll come around man. You guys have too much history for this to just _end _things, you know?'

'Whatever. Your platitudes can eat me,' Puck muttered. 'Dude thought Drizzle for his for how fucking long? I'd be lucky if he even wants to breathe the same air as me.'

Mike thought it said volumes that Puck had referred to the baby as Drizzle.

'If you need me to shave the sides of your 'hawk man, I'm there,' Mike said and Puck rolled his eyes.

'Is this pussyfest over? Can we all make sure we don't have vaginas please?' Puck remarked.

Matt chuckled. 'See you later Puckerman.'

'Catch ya on the flip side _Noah_,' Mike told Puck with a jaunty wave. Puck flashed Mike the middle finger as they walked towards the front door.

They were halfway down the little pathway when Mike and Matt heard Puck call out for them.

'Thanks,' was all he said. Mike jerked his head in acknowledgment, saw Matt do the same. The two friends stood there for a moment, staring at the door that Puck had shut closed.

'You're right. This was the right thing to do,' Matt spoke into the humid, afternoon air.

'I'm _always _right.'

'Sometimes you're not wrong,' Matt conceded.

'Puck may be a badass, but he's still kinda human inside,' Mike said quietly.

'I don't know what I'd have done if I was Puck.'

'Neither would I,' Mike mused.

Mike realized that people were going to forget that Puck wasn't just the villain in this little play. He was kind of the anti-hero really. Finn might have rode in on his white horse and flowing red cape, but Puck was the one who did his best work in the shadows.

And Mike had always rooted for the underdog.


	10. Santana

**My first attempt at Santana. I'm nervous. Takes place before Chapter 61.**

Santana had never seen anything wrong with getting what you wanted. Some people called her a manipulative bitch, but the fact of the matter was that she was simply a girl unafraid to crush whoever stood in her path.

Which was why when the truth about Quinn's baby came out, there were only two things that flashed through her mind. One – Quinn had lied to her. Two – her best friend had fucked her boyfriend behind her back. And for some reason these things had done what nothing else had done before.

It had made her hurt.

Sure she talked about how sex was a weapon, a damned effective one actually. Santana Lopez knew that talk was cheap. Spread your legs and you were guaranteed a result. She'd taken a brief pause when she had seen Quinn with Finn. Ridiculously rhyming names aside, there was something to be said about the almost tender looks the freakishly tall quarterback would send the blonde's way. Sometimes Santana would watch fascinated when Finn would curl his fingers into Quinn's hair, almost subconsciously. Puck had never done that with her. All the two of them seemed to do was enjoy the carnal aspect of the relationship. Santana had welcomed the simplicity of it all really.

That was, until he had seen the way Puck had been with Rachel. It was the same nauseatingly sweet affection that Finn showed Quinn, except this was _Puck_. The same boy who had told her outright that things between them was purely physical, and he'd rather they didn't actually speak because it would ruin the effect.

Santana sometimes wondered if she was such a bitch because of comments like that.

In any case, she had chosen to channel the hurt into something she was familiar with. Anger. Cold, hard, _bitter_ anger that tasted metallic and could be delivered with devastating accuracy. Brittany was too caught up with Rachel Berry to notice the simmering tension burning deep underneath her veins. Quinn, well, Santana couldn't look Quinn in the eye anymore without wanting to scratch her eyes out.

She spotted her quarry up ahead, swinging her hips as Finn absently placed his books into his backpack. The hallway was deserted and Santana knew she had at least ten minutes before the rest of the losers from the football team filed out of the locker room.

'What's up Finnocence?' She slammed the locker door, Finn lifting his head to look at her. Something inside of her softened for a moment when she took in the weary, desolate expression hidden behind Finn's normally dopey brown eyes. It was a fleeting moment of weakness though, and Santana twirled her finger through the ends of her ponytail.

'Hey,' Finn greeted her warily, regarding her like she was predator waiting to pounce. The thought made her smirk dangerously. Good. He needed to know which one of them was in control of this situation.

'Have you come up with anything for Schuester's lame glee assignment?' She asked. Finn shouldered his bag, scratched the side of his head.

'Not really. I was thinking of doing _Hello, I Love You _by the Doors-'

Santana rolled her eyes.

'Look Finn, seeing how pathetic you are is really starting to piss me off. Aren't you sick of moping around, playing the victim?'

'What do you want Santana?' Finn retorted and the bite to his words made Santana lift an eyebrow in approval.

'Your girlfriend cheated on you with my boyfriend,' Santana tilted her head to the side; saw the way his gaze darkened. 'And you want to sing a song comparing her to the queen of angels? Seriously?'

Finn looked at her suspiciously. 'You didn't even like Puck that much. What does it matter whether he slept with Quinn or not.'

Santana ground her teeth, felt her muscles in her jaw flex. It mattered because the asshole had known the one person she had never wanted him to sleep with was Quinn Fabray. The golden girl with the soft, Christian smile. The one dressed in the flowing white gown that all the boys thought deserved to be treated with respect. Santana Lopez, on the other hand, was nothing more than a devil in disguise. A dirty little secret that was never kept under wraps for long.

'It matters okay?' She shot back defensively. Finn doesn't reply and Santana resisted the urge to shift uneasily under his scrutinizing gaze.

'Did you love Puck?'

'No,' her answer is curt and clipped. And honest if she were really wanted to be fair to herself. Puck had been a good fuck, she thought wryly. Nothing more, nothing less. 'Were you in love with Quinn?'

Santana doesn't miss the way Finn flinched at her use of past tense.

'I don't know,' he mumbled, angled his gaze away from her. Santana heaved out a sigh.

'You don't believe in love?' He asked and there is no missing the incredulity in his voice. Santana remembered the loud voices underneath the floor of her room, how she had to turn her music up all the way to make sure she can't hear her parents shouting at each other.

'Love doesn't exist Finn,' she told him and she doesn't know why there is something gentle in her voice when she does. 'It isn't this earth-shattering, life-altering realization like it is in the movies. The only thing a man and woman can do is fuck. Anything more than that and it just goes down the drain. The sooner you accept that, the better.'

She tapped her foot against the floor for a beat, then two.

'What do you want to do?' Finn finally said and Santana tamped down the urge to grin triumphantly.

She ignored the saddened expression on Brittany's face when she stands next to Finn, belting out the words to _Gives You Hell _with conviction. Quinn looked like someone had rammed a knife into her chest and twisted it sideways at the end and Santana pushes away the guilt that threatened to overwhelm the pleasure of _finally _getting one over Quinn Fabray.

'She deserved to know how I felt,' Finn told Puck and Santana clenched her fists so that she isn't guilty of reaching over and delivering a good, hard slap on Puck's unmarked cheek.

'Quinn deserves more than that,' she heard Berry announce and Santana was simply _sick _of Quinn being the victim simply because she was pregnant. The former Cheerio was just as deceitful as her in case everyone had forgotten – she had strung Finn along like a cheap instrument and backed Puck into a corner before everything had come back to bite her perfect behind.

'Please. She got exactly what was coming to her,' Santana scoffed and marveled when Rachel Berry of all people started to defend the disgraced Celibacy Queen.

'I _loved _her Rach,' Finn said and the broken quality of his tone got to Santana. She sneaked a look out of the corner of her eye, realized that she simply had to lift her hand and she would be grasping his. She wondered what his hand felt like, whether they were soft or calloused, and then shook her head viciously.

_What the hell?_

'She's not always going to be that way,' Rachel answered and Santana buried the resentment threatening to engulf her.

'Whatever Berry. Tell me if you're still spinning that tale when your best friend fucks your boyfriend behind your back,' she managed to get out before heading toward the exit. Puck had given her a look, as if he cannot quite believe that she was even remotely _feeling _towards his betrayal. Head held high, Santana felt the burning in her eyes.

'Santana! _Santana_!' Finn called and she doesn't groan. Instead she fixed her features into a mask of indifference, affects an air of impatience when Finn is suddenly in front of her.

'Are you okay?'

The question caught her off guard.

No one had ever wondered if she was okay, mainly because she had always been so careful to make it look like nothing ever got to her. Quinn and Brittany had been the only two she had let her guard slip around. Now one had broken the sisterhood code and the latter was simply never around.

'I'm fine,' Santana answered before pivoting on her heel.

She had to be fine. Because she didn't have anyone to fall back on if she wasn't.

She doesn't see the worried frown on Finn's face. Perhaps if she did, her answer might have been different.

Maybe.


	11. Quinn

**Takes place in Chapter 70.**

Quinn looked at the boy sitting across from her, head bowed down.

Noah Puckerman had always been on her radar. While Finn had been tall and adorable, Puck had been the dangerous friend. He wore leather jackets, smirked at girls who fell at their feet trying to get close enough for him to taste. It had always intrigued her, that smirk. It held such promise, such potential. Hearing Santana buff her nails and smile with satisfaction the morning after with Puck had only heightened the appeal.

She wasn't stupid. Quinn had noticed the way Puck's gaze would turn hungry whenever she would sway her hips a little more when she walked by. But she loved Finn, loved the way he seemed to cherish her like something fragile and delicate. Finn Hudson was the Prince Charming she had always imagined as a little girl. Sure he had his moments, but overall he was patient and kind. A heart filled with good. Quinn had reveled under that attention.

Until, that is, Rachel Berry had stormed through the barn doors.

Suddenly Finn always seemed to be distracted, his brown eyes always lingering on Rachel. Quinn had joined the Glee club, risked social suicide for him and yet she just _knew _that something was happening between her boyfriend and Rachel despite his consistent denials. Finn would roll his eyes, call her paranoid, brush away her complaints as if they were nothing.

Suddenly Puck seemed entirely too prominent, a weapon she could utilize to hurt the one person who was always supposed to be there for her.

But then the way he had held her, the way Puck had brushed her hair back and smoothed his palms over her arms after they were finished in bed…something inside Quinn had bloomed.

That feeling evaporated when she realized she was pregnant.

Since then she had just been swimming through a current that was too strong for her, struggling to keep adrift. Her parents hated her, she was a social outcast, the one girl she had tortured mercilessly had extended the hand of friendship to her. Everything was upside down, inside out. The one thing she had been sure of was that this life growing inside her needed something more than Quinn could give – a _real _home, one with two adults who knew what they were doing.

Seeing the hurt and anger flash across Puck's face when she had suggested it made her feel guilty, because it suddenly made her realize that the one person who hadn't left her side since her life had spun out of control was the one she had probably been hurting the most.

It makes her want to laugh even more when the folder he gives her is the exact same one she had picked.

'I used to look at Finn the same way,' Quinn told him, watched the flicker of emotions dance across his face. 'You used to look at me the same way too.'

The regret is something new, a feeling she hasn't ever attached with Noah Puckerman since that fateful night. It makes her yearn for Finn, for Puck. It makes her yearn for someone who wants to cherish her _again_.

Except, Quinn realized, that Finn has never looked at her the same way. Rachel is the center of Puck's universe, the only thing his eyes can see when they touch upon the petite diva. With Finn, particularly towards the end, it always seemed that he had someone else on his mind whenever they were together.

It eats away at Quinn that Rachel Berry now has something else of hers yet again that she isn't supposed to have.

Then again, she mused, as Jose's crooked grin flashed across her mind. Then again, perhaps God won't keep punishing her for her mistake too much longer.


	12. Update

**Sorry for the fake out. Expect an update for North within the week. But before then I have to get this out.**

**OH. MY. SQUEEEE!**

**If you haven't heard, there is this little thing called the Puckleberry Fanfiction Awards. And I (yes ME!) have been nominated for three awards!**

**Best Supporting Character (Brittany Pierce, North)****  
****Best WIP (North)****  
****Best Author**

**I'm up against heavyweights so I'm not even considering that I will win, but if you enjoy my work and my stories, I humbly ask that you head over to the sites below and vote for me in these three categories! Pretty please with sugar, cherries and Hershey's chocolate sauce on top!**

**LJ - ****prfanficawards (dot) livejournal (dot) com**

**Tumblr - ****prfanficawrds (dot) tumblr (dot) com**

**Polls will be open for voting within the next few days at the two websites above!**

**I don't know who nominated me, but you are like my hero. I don't deserve your adulation but I will take it! As well as everyone who has stuck through this entire ride – two years and counting can you believe it! To all those who favourite, alert and review I don't say it enough, but you are the reason for my muse to still be alive.**

**This legit made my YEAR (it's been craptacular so far honestly)!**


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